Hi there! THis is something that just popped up while re-watching Trail of Blood... It is said that Tesla has expensive tastes. And, I mean, what better proof is there that Helen Magnus? :) Enjoy!

Expensive tastes

Nikola could not sleep. It wasn't insomnia, and he felt better than ever. He just couldn't bring himself to sleep. Not whenever he was naked, lying in Helen's bed. He was enjoying every second of it, engraving every detail in his memory. His head rested on his fist, lying on his side, enabling his other hand to wander freely on Helen's back, sometimes caressing her silky curls, most of the time feeling the contrast between the supple smooth skin of her back and the rough, blistered, dried surfaces of the multiple scars that turned her body into a narrative of a two century long lifetime. A lot of those cuts and burns had not been there the last time he had ran his fingers on her back like that, some sixty-four years before. As 'usual', he traced the contours of a scar left by a bullet on her shoulder with the tip of his index finger before gently cupping her hip, to shift his balance and brush his lips against the past injury. This one was partly his fault, as she had received the bullet while throwing herself in front of him to shield him- which was completely stupid as he would have recovered in a few seconds, and now there would be no memory of it, no trace, no guilt.
His gentle kisses elicited goose bumps from his sleeping Helen, and he smiled. She wasn't sleeping. Like him, she was enjoying every touch, knowing it would be a long time before their next sexual encounter. There was this energy between them, that fascinating tension... If waiting for someone a whole lifetime was a thrill, imagine the thrill of waiting for half a century each time. They would long for each other and wait for the tension to become dangerous, then, and only then, she would take him to bed. The first time, a few hours had been enough to satisfy their lust. But the more the time went, the more they needed each other. Their last encounter had been in Vienna, 1948, where Nikola had spent the best couple of days in his life in a hotel room, worshiping Helen until they had both been fully satiated.

It was becoming something more than just a game, to the extent that Nikola wasn't even jealous of all the other partners Helen obviously had had between Vienna and now. No. She could have fun with whoever she wanted, he knew she would always get back to him., the man who had never had any other woman.

To be honest, Helen was worth the eternal chase. She was worth every minute of the time he spent away from his lab for was like a fine and expensive wine, getting better everyday. No, she was so much better than a fine wine... She was a puzzle that wouldn't let his mind rest. The only drug that had a inebriating effect on him.

His hand reached a scar on her side, just above her hips, and this time, Helen stopped his hand and shifted.
Nikola's heart missed a beat. Her resistance meant it was time to leave her side.

"No. That's not what I meant. It's just... Still painful." She said, sensing his thoughts.
Helen intertwined their fingers and shifted closer to him, her back against his chest.
"Where did you get that?" He asked, kissing her neck.
"The explosion".
Nikola tensed. Watching the Sanctuary blow up knowing she was still inside had been the hardest thing he had ever done. And that kiss had convinced him she wouldn't survive.
"You had it all planed... You knew you would most likely survive, and yet you kissed me.".
Helen chuckled and turned around to face him, a glorious smile on her face.
"Stop over-thinking." She whispered, brushing her knee against the most intimate part of his body, making him groan.

"You know me Helen. I never stop thinking."
She bit her lip and she brought her face closer to his. She had that look in her eyes, the one that meant she didn't want to talk.
"Is that a challenge?"

Penny for your thoughts?